


Refugees

by lori (zakhad), zakhad



Series: Captain and Counselor, the revised versions [20]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-05 20:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19048270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zakhad/pseuds/lori, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zakhad/pseuds/zakhad
Summary: New story in a revised series.Not all species are enemies or friends, and not all problems are solvable with a battle. Not all aliens can be handled with a Universal Translator... Deanna's abilities are stretched to the limit by attempts to communicate with a strange new species.If this ends without enough answers for you... that is by design. This is backstory for future stories.





	1. Chapter 1

The first day of the mission, after the away team transported to the surface, Jean-Luc tried to keep himself busy but his mind went back to the briefing with the admiral as he worried about the team. 

What they knew about the Kertassilians said that the mission might not even be possible. The planet, Kertassil, wasn't even their home world, apparently. The reports from the Vulcan vessel that had responded to the request for help relayed by a recently-contacted species, the Nor, had indicated the Kertassilians were telepathic. After a few mind melds the Vulcans had concluded that they were incompatible with the telepathy of the Kertassilians.

As the report went, the Kertassilians were originally from deep in the Beta Quadrant -- part of something called the Randra Alliance. The Vulcan captain, T'Mar, had expressed grave concern about this alliance. The Kertassilians had fled six centuries ago from their planet of origin -- they'd been enslaved, from what T'Mar said. Jean-Luc had listened to T'Mar's reports himself; there was an unusual urgency to the Vulcan officer's warnings. Admiral Nechayev herself had contacted him again, to convey her concerns. It was clear that Starfleet wanted information about this species and what they might know about other Beta Quadrant species. He'd seen hints that the Beta Quadrant species being encountered were causing increased anxiety, and he thought that there was much less transparency than there once had been in Starfleet as a result.

So the away team consisted of deLio, Data, Geordi and Deanna. All experienced in difficult missions, the best he could send. If they were unable to work this out, it would mean one more loss of an opportunity to befriend a species in the Beta Quadrant. The Federation sent help to assist them in repairing the climate control that kept Kertassil inhabitable for the Kertassilians. This was the second attempt, after the Vulcans departed. They had the tricorder and sensor readings and the eyewitness reports from the Vulcan team, and so they knew their work was cut out for them.

It was frustrating to no end, being stuck on the ship when the stakes were so high. He chafed, trying not to worry about what was happening, and attempted to read. It felt odd after so many weeks of ongoing mental contact with Deanna to be so far apart that he couldn't feel her presence at all. He suspected it was like anything, just something that would become easier to bear, with practice. It had been worse on Zanzibar.

After six hours of waiting he received the notification from the bridge that the away team was beaming aboard. He crossed the bridge from the ready room to the observation lounge, to meet with them. Geordi, deLio and Data came in.

"Where is the counselor?" he asked at once, with more ire than was warranted -- they would have contacted him if she had been injured. It occurred to him that she was aboard again, there should be some contact with her by now.

"We took her to sickbay -- she will be here shortly, Captain," Data said. "She was complaining of a headache."

"We have our work cut out for us," Geordi said.

The engineer's face was drawn, and it registered finally -- all three of them were sober and gazing at him as if waiting for him to notice. Jean-Luc turned and took his seat at the head of the table, and they joined him. 

"I think I need some of sciences with us," Geordi said. "I'll need to talk to Dr. Mengis too. They have biologically-based technology. I'm not even sure what I'm looking at."

"We took detailed scans and I intend to take a shuttle to examine the satellite system first hand," Data said. 

"Were you able to establish any two-way communication with the Kertassilians?"

The look that passed between Data and Geordi didn't surprise him. "We think Deanna did. But -- maybe we should let her explain it," Geordi said.

It was as though he'd timed it. The door opened and she came in, took a seat next to Geordi and tried to smile. 

"Counselor?"

"I'm sorry that I was late," she said. "I had to get analgesic and a stimulant. I have a great deal of work to do, transcribing everything I was given."

Geordi was surprised by that. He eyed her suspiciously.

"Counselor, please start at the beginning."

Deanna folded her hands on the table in front of her. "When we beamed down, we were caught in a rain storm. The weather is unpredictable. We found the Kertassalians in a large shelter. They live in open-sided shelters, in groups. Their spacecraft were not in evidence. When we arrived, they seemed to sense us; they moved out of the way as we entered the shelter. One of them established contact with me fairly early. Geordi and the others collected information while I attempted to understand what was needed." She took a moment, as if this was difficult for her to talk about. "I... don't remember how much time has passed."

"We were down there for nearly six hours, Deanna," Geordi said. 

She stared at him in shock. Finally she shook herself a little. "Are you certain?"

"My internal chronometer is accurate," Data said gently. "I am not surprised that you have difficulty remembering the passage of time. You seemed caught up in whatever you were experiencing, to the point that you were unresponsive to questions. We sat with you and waited until you concluded the exchange and became aware of us again, though you seemed to be having difficulty speaking."

"Mr. deLio, do you have an opinion on risks on the planet's surface?" Jean-Luc said.

"I surveyed the area with three of my officers," deLio said. "We cataloged plant and animal life within a two mile radius of the shelter. The Kertassilians themselves do not appear dangerous. There are no animals large enough to physically injure any of us. We did not detect any poisonous substances or unstable geographic features. The area around the shelter is secure."

"Do you see any reason that I should not beam down?" Jean-Luc said. 

deLio sometimes took on human mannerisms; he shook his head, his jowls bobbing slightly. "The only danger present would be the Kertassalians themselves. It is clear that they are strong telepaths. The aftereffects of the commander's contact with them were troubling."

"Did they communicate with anyone else?"

deLio looked at Geordi. It was unusual for the engineer to look exhausted, Jean-Luc thought. It didn't seem that he was tracking the conversation.

The door opened, and Dr. Mengis arrived. "Sir," he said, approaching the table. "I would like to see Lieutenant-Commander LaForge in sickbay. Mr. deLio as well."

"Doctor?"

Mengis wasn't happy; his mustache covered most of his frown, but his eyes were serious. "After seeing Commander Troi, and reviewing the reports from the initial effort, I would like to closely monitor the status of any crew making contact with the Kertassilians. I have concerns that there is something about them causing altered mental status."

"I share your concerns," Data said. "But I did not see indications that Mr. deLio or Mr. LaForge were affected."

"Mr. LaForge, how do you feel?" Mengis said.

"Tired," came the immediate response. Then, after a moment of contemplation, he said, "I guess I'm feeling a bit fuzzy. Disoriented."

deLio didn't wait for a prompt. "I found myself feeling tension that had no basis. I did not otherwise feel affected."

Mengis walked around the table and sat across from Geordi, Deanna and deLio. He studied them and asked, "Tell me what happened, when she established two-way communication with them."

The rest of the away team glanced at Deanna as if anticipating a negative reaction. Geordi turned back to the doctor. "She went into some sort of trance. I've seen her talk to other telepaths and not do that. We called her name, shook her by the shoulder, nothing shifted her until she came out of it on her own."

"She sat there without moving on the ground for hours until she blinked and looked at us. She did not initially seem able to speak," Data said. "I had to help her to her feet. She stumbled coming off the transporter pad."

"Sir," Mengis said, giving him a stern look.

"We'll have the sciences department take a close look at all the information we've accumulated," Jean-Luc said. "Dr. Mengis will clear Commander Troi for duty when she has recovered sufficiently, and go with her to the surface to monitor her closely while she makes contact again. Are there any other telepaths aboard who might be able to help us communicate with them?"

"At this time we have three Vulcans, and the counselor," Dr. Mengis said. "Given the medical reports on the Vulcan crew of the  _T'Mir_ I recommend that the Vulcan officers remain aboard. Despite their incredible mental discipline it seems that the Kertassilians are not compatible with them."

"Have you examined any of the data on their technology?"

"Not yet. I have focused on the matter of the effects of their telepathy on crew. I would like to take Mr. LaForge and deLio to sickbay, to collect detailed information, and then I will review with Mr. LaForge the data collected by the away team."

"Then we will convene in the morning to discuss your findings," Jean-Luc said. "I will see you all at nine hundred hours, at which time we will be able to decide how to proceed."

It cleared the room, for the most part. Data left, and Geordi followed the doctor, as did deLio. Deanna remained seated as Jean-Luc did. She seemed lost in thought.

"Deanna."

Her eyes met his. There was still weariness in her face, despite the doctor's efforts. "I don't remember anything that Geordi and Data were describing," she said.

"What was it like, communicating with the Kertassilians? Was it like the bond?"

She inhaled, trying to collect her resources to answer. "Not like the bond. Not -- I can't describe it. There are no words. They have  _no words_ for  _anything_."

"So the best source of information on how their technology works and we can't talk to them," he said.

"I have to get a padd and make notes on what they told me. They showed me so much...." She frowned, shaking her head in distress. "I'm losing it. I need to start  _now_. I'm already forgetting."

Whatever was happening, he decided it was time to go. "Come to quarters, then, and we'll have something to eat." He hadn't eaten lunch, and it sounded like she had been so caught up she likely had not had anything at all, food or water.

"But I have to get it all down!"

"There will be time to do it later. You need food. That's an order," he added, when it looked like she would protest.

She made it into the lift under her own power, and he left Data in charge on the way through the bridge. She was so lost in thought in the lift that it concerned him. When the door opened, she nearly ran into the wall. He took her arm to steady her, and wondered if she needed to go to sickbay again. But she recovered and walked ahead of him to their quarters.

Once inside, she sat down and grabbed a padd she'd been using the previous evening to review the reports on Kertassil. Jean-Luc brought a glass of Tarkalian tea and set it in front of her with more force than necessary. She didn't look up from what she was doing at the sound of the glass on the table.

"Deanna. Stop, please."

She glanced at him -- it was extremely unusual to see her scowl at him. 

"I'm calling sickbay if you do not stop and eat something right now. Feel free to call me a hypocrite after all the times you've warned me to relax instead of overworking myself."

The attempt to engage her in some way was somewhat successful. She set aside the padd and drank some of the tea, but the lack of conversation and the continued sensation of being disconnected concerned him still. 

"Deanna," he said again, with more volume.

"The more I talk, the less I remember," she said. "I think it's something to do with how my brain functions. I think that in order to interface with the Kertassilians, I have to use a particular part of the brain, and the cognitive interferes with it. If I can only focus long enough I might be able to get it all back."

"If you do not rest, you will be useless to the mission," he exclaimed, hoping that his agitation would get her attention. "This tunnel vision is not like you."

Deanna gazed at him with wide eyes. Finally, there was some contact; finally, she started to reconnect with him. She stood up and came around the coffee table, walking into his arms. He let her relax before he spoke again.

"How do you feel?"

"Almost normal again. Better."

"Am I correct in assuming that you will have to go back into that state to obtain the information we need, then?"

Deanna stepped back out of his arms, putting her hands on his chest and looking up into his face. Now she looked exhausted again. "I wish it could be otherwise. But now I don't remember anything of what I was given -- faint murmurings of it, like hearing someone's voice through a wall."

"Please eat something. Take a bath, get some sleep. In the morning I want Mengis to examine you again. Then we will have a better idea of what we're up against."

"Are you ordering me to do that?"

He winced. "I will if I have to. If the success of this effort depends solely on you, keeping you in good health is in everyone's best interests."

"Then perhaps I have enough to make the case for a massage?" 

"I'm perfectly happy to oblige, after dinner. What would you like to eat?"


	2. Chapter 2

Jean-Luc saw the away team off in the morning, after the briefing -- Data, Dr. Mengis and Deanna went down with deLio this time. Geordi and some of his staff, plus some of the biologists from sciences, were going over the information gathered so far. Direct study of the satellites in orbit had given them more to work with.

Deanna had been herself that morning -- initially cranky, evening out as she got some coffee to drink and some breakfast to go with it. Mengis had cleared her. Data had once again rejected Jean-Luc's attempt to join them. Absent any compelling reason to go, he sat on the bridge ruminating and trying to be open to any hint of distress that Deanna might project. This time, he noticed that as the day wore on he felt less and less connected to her.

The away team was gone for four cups of tea, lunch, a walk around the lower decks, two hours on the holodeck, the second of his thrice-weekly visits to the gym, an hour of discussion with a cadet regarding his possible future as an officer, and another hour of restless pacing in the ready room. When the bridge informed him, he moved his pacing to the observation lounge, and they filed in -- without Deanna.

"I ordered her to sickbay for a thorough exam," Mengis said before he even asked. Jean-Luc sat down with them at the table, noting their serious faces.

"It was as it was yesterday, so far as Deanna's contact with the Kertassilians," Data said. "And we observed the Kertassilians themselves. They have no eyes, no ears, but seem to have no difficulties navigating their world. I followed a small group of them to another shelter, where there were racks of non-native plants. They appear to be using hydroponics to cultivate them, and harvest the nectar from the flowers, distill it, and then disseminate it to the rest of the group."

"They spray it on and ingest it through the skin. We are dealing with intelligent plants, essentially," Mengis said.

"Plants with warp-capable vessels that can carry them across a quadrant," Jean-Luc said.

"They are growing another vessel," Data said. "I observed one of them tending to it. It is planted near the hydroponics shelter, and is roughly the size of one of our shuttles at the moment."

Jean-Luc sat with this for a moment. "Are they planning to leave Kertassil?" The world was ostensibly within the territory claimed by the Nor, who were also telepathic, but also had a spoken tongue as many Federation telepaths did.

"Unclear, as of course we have not heard from the counselor on anything she has learned. We have respected her request to not ask her about what she learned from the Kertassilians until she has the chance to transcribe it," Data said.

"How is she, Dr. Mengis?"

Mengis glared at him for a few seconds. The doctor recovered his composure, and spoke calmly, so it was not worth commenting upon it. "I would expect that she will recover as she did yesterday. I monitored her with my medical tricorder but I have yet to examine the data -- I would like to compare her readings from this morning to those that are being collected in sickbay."

"Then if you have nothing further at this time, please do so -- forward me the results, if you would. You are dismissed, Doctor."

Mengis stood stiffly and went out of the briefing room. Jean-Luc turned to the other two. 

"There were no security issues. The Kertassilians were as pacifistic as they were yesterday," deLio said. 

"I am concerned that the counselor may be pushing herself beyond her limits -- she may be compromising her health," Data said. "Her mental health seems to suffer when she returns from the surface."

"Noted," Jean-Luc said. "Was there anything else that you observed that seemed unusual, or noteworthy?"

Data shook his head. "There was not. After observing their harvest and their attending to the vessel, I returned to Dr. Mengis and waited with him, until Deanna awakened."

"Very well. I will see you in the morning for the briefing. You have the bridge, Mr. Data."

It was mid-afternoon, but other than this frustrating mission, there was nothing more urgent than Deanna, so he asked after her location and headed for holodeck three. Surprising to find her there, but as he entered, he saw immediately why she had gone there.

Deanna stood in the center of the grid holding up her hands. Somehow, she had programmed the holodeck to allow her to manipulate holographic matter with her hands; she was sculpting individual objects, some of which were hanging in mid-air around her. All of them looked organic, with rounded contours and sometimes root-like connections to other pieces.

Jean-Luc stood watching her for a while, trying to see what it was she might be working on. Then his comm badge chirped. "LaForge to Picard."

"Yes, Mr. LaForge, what is it?"

"I have some information about the weather array -- should I send it to you or bring it to the morning briefing?"

"I think you should come to holodeck three. I believe I have some information as well."

"I'm on my way."

When Geordi came in a few minutes later, he gaped at the scene. "What is she doing?"

"Given that she knows what we are here to do, I suspect that she is making use of whatever the Kertassilians told her," Jean-Luc said, watching her mold yet another oblong green object. 

"Some of this -- I think she's working on a satellite," he said, wagging a finger, excited. "This is about the size and shape of them. I wonder.... Computer, give me the chemical composition of these objects."

Jean-Luc smiled, watching her work, able to ignore the continued odd sensation of feeling so disconnected from her. Until she started to move slower, pause longer, and finally she fit two pieces together then backed away from the piece. It looked like a six foot flower, large pointed brass-colored petals all around in rows. Geordi took another reading and then watched as she went to the back of it and started to run her fingers over the veins in the dark green base of the satellite. 

"I think I'm starting to get how these things work. I need to take some images -- computer, replicate one holo-camera and a tricorder for me."

While Geordi recorded the movements of her fingers and scanned with the tricorder, Deanna leaned close and was entirely focused on what she was doing, beads of sweat on her forehead and eyes glassy. Jean-Luc came to her side and studied her face more closely. "Let me know when she is finished, Geordi. Picard to Mengis -- report to holodeck three, with a medkit."

By the time the doctor arrived, Deanna had moved away from the satellite and Jean-Luc had asked the computer for a chair for her. She cooperated in getting to it and sitting, but seemed to lose consciousness once seated. Mengis scanned with the tricorder. "I was afraid this would happen. I hope you got what you needed, I don't want her to do this again. She's exhausted and needs to rest and recover. Mengis to sickbay -- bring a litter to holodeck three."

Geordi stopped what he was doing with the satellite. "Computer, save this simulation under LaForge K-1. End program." He watched the satellite dissolve, and then watched the doctor shake Deanna's shoulder. "She sure wanted this to work. I hope she's okay."

"She will be," Mengis said. 

Two more sickbay staff arrived and moved her to the antigrav litter for transport. Jean-Luc watched the doctor leave with his patient, then turned to Geordi. "How close are you to understanding how to adjust the satellites?"

"With this, very close. I think she gave me the instructions on how to change the settings -- it looks like the sequence of movements triggers a specific set of chemical reactions in the satellite. The biological construction of it must be an outgrowth of the Kertassilians themselves. I wonder if they actually also communicate telepathically with the machines they use?" Geordi looked up from the tricorder. "I've got to get this down to the lab. We beamed aboard one of the satellites, this will help a lot. Tell Deanna she did great." The engineer turned and left the holodeck.

Jean-Luc spent a moment in the empty holodeck contemplating his options. The mission was progressing, in spite of the obstacles. He could contact the admiral, who wanted frequent updates, but opted to wait until he had a little more conclusive information, and headed for sickbay instead.

One of the nurses hurried off when he came in, not even waiting for him to ask, and Mengis came back into main sickbay at the summons. "Good, come with me," Mengis exclaimed. Jean-Luc followed, alarmed by this -- but as they reached the intensive care rooms he heard Deanna arguing with one of the nurses.

"Commander," he said, entering the small room. "If you won't comply with medical staff, you'll force me to write you up for insubordination."

Deanna lay back again on the bed, glaring at him. The nurse, Lieutenant Sands, smiled at him, glanced at the doctor, and sidestepped away to make room. "Come on, Sands," Mengis said. 

The doctor vacated the room with Sands, closing the door behind him. When they were alone, Deanna sighed audibly.

"Geordi said to thank you for the work, he thinks your efforts have moved the repairs along significantly."

"I need to log the rest of what I learned, before I forget it again," she said.

"Then tell me about it -- we can have the computer record it for good measure." He went to get a chair that stood in the corner, wondering why it was there, then realized this was the same room she'd been in before, after the injuries she'd sustained at Galisi. He set aside the thought with an iron will, smiled at her as he sat down and asked the computer to start recording.

"They came here to escape extermination," she said, anger in her voice. "They were very peaceful species, living in isolation until the Randra came. There were abductions, experimentation -- it was so painful to have some of their own torn apart. They don't sleep. Distance doesn't matter -- we could take one of them parsecs away and they would still be able to communicate with each other. I could feel others -- there are other groups of them out there, far away. I could feel...."

"No words," he said, mostly to bring her back from wherever she was drifting. "I find myself wondering why they chose to contact the Federation."

"The Nor made contact with the Federation. They told them that they needed help, their vessel died and the new one won't mature for another year, and the weather is worsening. They don't have a name for themselves," Deanna said wonderingly. "No names for individuals. It's as though they swim in an ocean of thought."

"Have they given you any other information about the Randra Alliance?"

"They want to leave," she went on. Her voice sounded fainter -- her eyes had drifted shut. "The Nor already left."

"Why?" He'd wondered why the people who relayed the message were not there to help them communicate.

"There is... something."

"Deanna. Are we in danger?" This seemed like the sort of information she would relay first, but then, if contact with the Kertassilians had been so difficult, perhaps she was less in touch with her officer self than had been apparent.

She seemed adrift, her eyelids fluttering. He gripped her arm, shook her a little, and her eyes opened again. As he gazed into them he felt pulled in, and it wasn't the same -- it felt odd, not at all the same as before. 

"Deanna, look at me," he said, trying to do away with the distance.

She blinked. It seemed to help a little. "Jean."

"Why did the Nor leave already?"

"The others warned them. The -- oh. They are bad with names. But there is a species. They are coming, and the Kertassilians want to be gone before they arrive. It will be a while, weeks, months -- it's so hard to say, they don't have measurements as we do, but it isn't now. Not urgent."

"Deanna. Your speech patterns are strange. Look at me."

She sighed, made a face that suggest she'd tasted something bitter, and her eyes drifted shut again. At that point it was obvious she was too tired to go on, and it seemed cruel to push her any more than he had. 

He left her there and found Mengis in his office. "She's asleep, I think. Do you have a prognosis?"

Mengis watched him sit down. "She will recover, but from my scans, I can tell you that the more she communicates with this species, the more her brain begins to operate erratically and less like a Betazoid brain. Her disorientation is only going to increase. Her personality has changed, obviously, and while she bounced back last night very quickly, she's taking too long today. She's normalizing -- I have been observing her brain activity from here as you were talking to her. But she can't keep doing it. If you must have her try again after she's back to herself, it can't be hours of contact, it has to be brief and she has to be given plenty of time to come back from it."

"The fleet admiral is expecting something that I am not certain we can give her," Jean-Luc said. "I'll speak to the commander when she is rested."

Mengis stared at him, and while his expression was veiled Jean-Luc thought he seemed angry.

"Doctor, I am not forcing her to do anything. She is aware as we all are that we need information."

The doctor dropped his gaze. After a moment, his jaw clenched. "I knew you had a reputation for being dispassionate, but I thought surely...."

Jean-Luc caught himself before snapping at him. Instead, he said quietly, "Doctor, my feelings are not something that I am prepared to discuss with you or any other officer -- especially in the middle of a mission."

He rose and left the CMO's office, and reached the exit. But he hesitated on the threshold. Empty quarters awaited him. Ignoring the nurse, who was watching him anxiously, he headed back to the intensive care ward, and returned to Deanna's room. He glanced at all the monitors, at her face, and sat down in the chair again.

"Cygne," he murmured, reaching to touch her face. "I miss you."

It never became so obvious that he relied heavily on her as a sounding board as when she lay unconscious on a biobed. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jean-Luc was reviewing some of the reports on a padd when Deanna awakened again. She'd briefly opened her eyes after two hours, and now five hours later it was ship's night. 

"Why am I here?" she murmured, shoving herself up on an elbow. She almost slipped off the biobed.

"Because we didn't want to move you. The doctor said you were rehydrated and could go whenever you were able to move under your own power. How are you feeling?"

Deanna sat up, frowning down at the blue sickbay gown. "Tired, still, and a little fuzzy-headed. I remember some things. I remember being caught up in the thoughts of the Kertassilians, and the flow of information. It's hard to put into words."

"Do you remember the last time we spoke?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I couldn't provide more details."

"I wonder if one of the details you may have gotten might be where the Nor went? If we could talk to them directly, they might provide the information we can't seem to get from the Kertassilians. Geordi and the rest of engineering and sciences are still working on the satellites but they feel that will be done in another day or so. Especially if one of the Kertassilians might be willing to come aboard, and work with us. If the only reason they haven't been able to make the adjustments themselves has been the death of their vessel, we might succeed by giving them transportation."

Deanna smiled ruefully. "If only I had thought about that before I went to speak to them."

"Yes, but this has been a learning curve for all of us. Shall we go have something to eat?"

She replicated a robe on the way through sickbay and went with him, through the empty corridors. "How long did I sleep?"

"Almost eight hours. I suspect you'll sleep more. I have strong reservations about asking you to deal with the Kertassilians again. Mengis has been crankier than usual, after accompanying you to the surface, and others have had similar mood changes. deLio and Data are the only ones who have been largely unaffected. deLio experiences some tension, no other symptoms, and has found it manageable."

They went into their quarters and ordered food from the replicator. She asked for soup, which was telling -- she usually got soup when her stomach was out of sorts. He watched her slowly spoon it into her mouth.

"Contact with them is damaging you," he said quietly, as she finished.

"I know. But Starfleet needs to know about the Randra Alliance and this is the first real opportunity to ask a species who originated deep in the Beta Quadrant."

"If they aren't good with names, it isn't much use, is it?"

Deanna smoothed back her hair and started to braid it. He had never realized how much work it was to maintain her hair, until he started to be privy to her off duty hours. She seemed to spend a great deal of time working on brushing or putting it up. "I feel as though there are things that are somewhere in my memory that I just can't get to -- I feel different, somehow."

"I think your empathy isn't working."

Her startled eyes found his, and she sat back in the chair, stunned. "It isn't."

"It likely hasn't since you returned yesterday at least. I don't feel the bond any longer. I know it must be there, as there hasn't been that pain I felt on Zanzibar. And it concerns me that you did not notice. I wonder what else you haven't noticed."

She seemed to be taking an internal inventory, as she finished braiding and let her hands fall in her lap. "So do I."

"I intend to beam down with you, if you go again."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said at once.

"If it's so alarming, then why would you go?"

Now she was angry. "You're my anchor. You know when I'm not myself, obviously. And you're the captain."

"Do you feel these creatures are exerting undue influence, doing deliberate harm to you?"

"No. They are pacifistic and actually somewhat fearful of us. Contact with me did not reassure them."

"I wonder why -- strong telepaths have an advantage, do they not?"

"Not all of them have the ability to exert influence over the mind of another, you know. Very few Betazoids have that ability."

Jean-Luc picked up his plate, took her empty bowl and recycled them. When he turned from the slot, she was watching him, her weariness plain in her face. He went to stand behind her chair and began to rub her shoulders. The tension in her back had her muscles in knots. She hummed softly in appreciation and let her head drop forward. He coaxed her toward the bedroom and she let him guide her along to the bed.

"I am looking forward to our wedding," she said, sitting on her side of the bed and lifting her right foot to pull off a slipper. 

He went to pull one of his shirts out of a drawer and brought it to her. "I heard from Will. He spoke to an admiral and has permission to give his crew leave, to allow him to attend."

"That means everyone but Worf will be there. And we haven't heard from him yet, so he might be." She let the robe drop off her shoulders, pulled the gown off, and grinned when he put the shirt over her head and pulled it down to her shoulders. She put her arms through the sleeves, rolling them up her forearm. Hugged herself, and watched him move the sickbay gown and robe off the bed. He sat next to her and she leaned into him. 

"Have you decided what you want to wear?" He had halfway expected her to opt for nude, but she'd balked at it. She already knew his preferences.

"I narrowed it down some."

"Malia has the ensemble practicing already for the reception. She suggested that after this mission we should start to think about what kind of cake we want, the flowers, which traditions we want to follow...."

"Hmm." Her head rested on his shoulder, and she seemed to be leaning more heavily on him. 

So he put her to bed, nudging her away from him and pulling at the covers, and she roused enough to lie down so he could tuck her in. She caught his hand before he could pull away, tugged at him, and he complied -- rolled into bed and let her cling to him while she fell asleep.

He dozed, but came awake when the commbadge chirped. "LaForge to Picard."

Deanna didn't stir, so he felt brave enough to respond. "Picard here."

"We just fixed the last satellite. Been working all night, but we got all of them reset -- turns out there was a problem with radiation. The star in this system is different, so the genetic makeup of the satellites weren't such that it completely protected them from the specific spectrum of radiation. So with a little fine-tuning we have them back online. Thanks to the head start we had from the counselor to figure out how to reset them."

"Excellent work," Jean-Luc exclaimed, as Deanna started to move. "Thank you. I will see you at the morning briefing. Picard out."

"Late for the meeting?" Deanna mumbled.

"Not at all."

She moved away from him. "Your arm is numb."

"Aha, the empath is back. Wonderful."

He got up and took a moment in the bathroom, and when he returned she had rolled up in the blanket. So he stripped off yesterday's uniform and went to shower. 

By the time he was dressed for the day, she was waking up again. "Want some coffee?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed while she sprawled and squinted at him. They'd left the lights on all night.

"I might. I would like a robe first."

He retrieved a plush gray one that she liked, and she unfurled the blanket to step into it. She followed her usual progression from semi-awake to awake, then returned to the bedroom with her second cup of coffee to get ready. She seemed normal as they left quarters after recycling dishes.

"I need to speak to Dr. Mengis about the readings he took yesterday. I'd like to see them, before I go back."

"If you go back."

She glared at him. "Are there things that we still need to say to them? Or that we need to ask?"

"We should discuss that in the briefing."

Mengis, LaForge, Data and Lieutenant Selvet from sciences were in the Observation Lounge when they arrived. Jean-Luc greeted them, and took his seat. Deanna went around the table to sit with Geordi.

"Are the satellites working properly again?"

"Yes, sir," Geordi said with a smile. "Sensors tell us the weather patterns on the planet are stabilizing already."

"How are you today, Commander Troi?" Mengis asked across the table.

Deanna smiled. "I'm doing well. Nearly back to normal."

"I hope that the business with the Kertassilians has been concluded?" Mengis turned a much-less-warm smile on Jean-Luc.

"Nearly. Has there been an examination of the Kertassilians themselves, that would explain why the Randra Alliance might hunt them down, capture them, resulting in their exodus from the Beta Quadrant?"

Silence. Geordi nodded in appreciation of the question. His staff had been focused on solving the problem of the satellites.

"Now that the weather is improving, we should gather all information that we can about the Kertassilians themselves. It may give us insight into why they are so desirable to the Randra Alliance that they were driven to flee, and still wanting to flee." Jean-Luc turned to Deanna. "You seem to become so immersed in communing with them that it is difficult to break away. What is your sense of what might be a safe duration of contact for you? Is there a way to ask them several pointed questions and then break contact before you are drawn in and unable to recover easily?"

"I have been thinking about that," she replied. "Perhaps if I meditate upon the questions prior to going. When I attempted to simply remember my questions yesterday, I became too wrapped up in the link between us to remember them. One of them should be initially requesting a brief contact, and letting them know that my lengthy time with them is damaging to me. I'm sure they would not want to harm me. I had every intention of letting them know this yesterday. But I'm a single mind and they are thousands, I was swept away in the tide."

"Thousands? There appear to be less than a thousand of them on this colony," Mengis said.

"They are in touch with the rest of their species, which are scattered throughout the Beta Quadrant. Some of them have fled into the Alpha Quadrant, and are still in flight -- in their ships and avoiding the vessels of Alpha Quadrant species."

Jean-Luc glanced at the others, and addressed her again. She seemed to be more in command of information gleaned from the Kertassilians than before. "Do you have any insight into the likelihood that they might ally with the Federation? We might be able to help them."

"And then they would help us, would be Command's expectation -- but all they want to do is find a home. They never wanted anything to do with other species," Deanna said.

Mengis' head tilted. He was picking up on the differences too. "Do the Kertassilians consider themselves part of the Randra Alliance? What is it that the Randra wanted so much that they were taking Kertassilians prisoner?"

Deanna shook her head. "They didn't want to think about that at all. It generates a great deal of distress in the link."

"Are they staying here now that the satellites are fixed? We had to alter their genetics to this specific star." Geordi gestured at Selvet, who took up the explanation, likely because he had been the one to collaborate with Mengis to make them.

The in-depth explanation was easier for Jean-Luc to read in the reports, where he could ask the computer for definitions of the more esoteric terms. He gleaned from the exposition that the satellites were themselves a hybrid of the Kertassilians and some organism that lived in the void of space, suggesting that the Kertassilians were masters of genetic manipulation without having the technology developed by humanoid species.

"I wonder how they manage it?" Mengis commented at the conclusion of the lecture. 

Deanna surprised them all again. "They have a unique biology, that allows them to take in the DNA of other organisms and manipulate it, then generate a pod in which the organism develops."

Mengis stared at her anew, as if she'd suddenly stopped being Betazoid. "Any organism? Could they borrow my DNA, then Geordi's, and generate a child?"

"They could."

Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow. "When we ask you questions on specifics, the answers come. Did they give you all this information already, so I can ask you what I would ask them, so you wouldn't have to go back and injure yourself?"

She laughed briefly. "Yes," she said, beaming happily.

"They were able to store information in your mind that you can't recall," Mengis said dubiously. "Unless we ask you questions?"

"We need to offer the Kertassilians transport, to a new world within the Federation," Jean-Luc said. "We need to retrofit a few cargo holds or dedicate a holodeck -- all the holodecks if needed -- and move them now. And no one in this room will mention why to anyone. Think about the ramifications of this."

"There aren't any regulations about using biological means of genetic manipulation," Geordi said. "And there might be other applications, other things the Kertassilians can do, that make them even more useful to folks who wouldn't have a problem using another species to accomplish whatever they desire to do -- I wonder if they might be able to simply clone a person?"

"Yes," Deanna said, her eyes wide.

"Data, are we able to establish a direct subspace channel with the fleet admiral?" Jean-Luc asked. He turned to Deanna again. "We have one question to ask. Whether they would be willing to take them with us, into Federation space. Whether they would accept safe haven in a defensible location, from us."

"The doctor and Selvet and I will work on accommodations," Geordi said. "I already have a few ideas."

"Mr. Data, get me a secure channel to Command," Jean-Luc said. "And I am going down to the surface with the commander, when she is ready to speak with the Kertassilians."

Data nodded. "I understand, sir."


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was shining in a gray-blue sky when they beamed down. Jean-Luc was not surprised to see that the "shelter" so often mentioned was itself a plant, some sort of wood and leaf creation with a shady canopy, beneath which a great number of Kertassilians were standing. Or so he assumed -- they might have been sitting. They themselves resembled plants, until Deanna led him closer, and then as one the group rose on two legs and moved slightly apart. Deanna moved slowly, a few steps at a time, until she and Jean-Luc were in the center of the group. There was an earthy green sort of odor that appeared to emanate from the aliens. 

They were roughly humanoid -- short legs, short arms, and a head, though as they turned about it became obvious that there were no faces. Large round black spots on the greenish-gray skin gave the appearance of eyes, but he knew they were not. 

"How do you feel?" he asked Deanna, watching the Kertassilians. He already felt what deLio had described, a tension -- it manifested for him as a sensation of things crawling on his skin. He had the impulse to scratch his arms and legs. 

"They are welcoming me back," she murmured, already glassy-eyed. "Worried about your presence. Thinking -- " She was already gone. Mengis had warned him that she would be disturbingly still and vacant; her mouth fell slack, and her body started to sway gently like a tree in the breeze. The Kertassilians were now joining her, moving to and fro gently. 

He waited for ten minutes, looking around. The aliens appeared to have hair, but it was only appearance; as he looked closer he noticed that the black strands sprouting from the top of the "head" were larger than hair, and moved independently of one another, like worms. Sensory organs?

"Deanna," he said, touching her arm. Then held her still, taking her shoulders in his hands and firmly keeping her still. He said her name again, then called her out by rank. Finally, she blinked.

"Hm."

"Deanna. Look at me." He tried to reach her through the bond, thinking it wasn't likely to work, but felt a flicker of a response. Her eyes cleared, and she stepped toward him. They embraced and she leaned into him as if needing comfort. Finally, the bond was present and palpable.

"I love you," she murmured.

"What did they say?"

She was lost again, dreamy-eyed and distant, but not as altered as she'd been before. Short contact was definitely better. "They would like information about the world that the Federation would offer them. They would like permission to bring all the others to it, and reassurances that they will not be used as if they are tools."

"All reasonable requests. Did you tell them what the admiral said?"

"Yes. They will be ready in two days. It will take time to uproot their community."

"And the holodecks will be ready in one. Talk to me. Look at me."

She came back to herself in increments. At last she stood on her own, looked him in the eye, and seemed awake again. She looked around at the half-sized humanoid creatures. "They seem so defenseless."

"Almost completely, if not for the telepathy -- wouldn't they try, if they could tell someone meant them harm?"

"There are those species who could send artificial constructs to capture them, like Data. They were very nervous about Data." She touched the upraised hand of one of the creatures, as it seemed to be reaching for her. The feathery fingers wandered down her arm. "They like me."

"I wonder if they would like other Betazoids, or perhaps the Cairn?"

"It was easier today," she said, turning to look him in the eye. The bond rose again, thrumming between them. "I think it would get easier yet if I practice -- perhaps they would find it easier to interface others with practice as well, it's just that they haven't had opportunities. I am understanding that the Beta Quadrant species are much more violent, or opportunistic. Kill or be subsumed, enslaved, taken advantage of, used. I still can't get names from them. What I am getting is a sense of the other species who have preyed upon the Kertassilians."

"Perhaps we should find a better name for them. Do you have a suggestion? They aren't from this planet."

Deanna touched the alien who had reached out to her. He saw that her fingers caused ripples in what he had thought was skin. So it was short fuzz, perhaps fur? "They seem to understand names better than they did, after we've had so much time exchanging information. I think with a little time I might be able to help them choose one. We should have time, if they are aboard for a while, shouldn't we?"

"Do you think that I could speak to them as well? Through the bond perhaps?"

Her eyes returned to his, and she continued to hold the alien's arm gently. He could tell she was trying. "I think it might be possible. Perhaps later, after they come aboard."

The aliens turned and swayed, swayed and turned, and several of them raised their arms. Soon all of them had their palms up toward the ceiling of their shelter, and as he looked up Jean-Luc saw that the canopy was beginning to open, to allow the sunlight through.

"This is beautiful," he said. 

The tension he'd felt at first started to ease somewhat. The aliens began to sway once more, turning their hands back and forth, taking in the sunlight. The earthy scent changed slightly, to something softer and sweeter. 

"They like you," she said. 

"Probably because they like you, and I like you, and you like me," he said with a smirk. "Some of this makes sense."

"Some of it makes perfect sense."

For some reason, as he stood in the middle of the crowd of aliens holding Deanna's hand, he could forget about the anxiety in Nechayev's voice, the unanswered questions that still lingered, and the unknowns waiting for them elsewhere in the galaxy.

It was, he thought later, after beaming back aboard and returning to the ready room to send a message updating the admiral on the schedule, something else that might be problematic with the aliens. He surmised that having enough of them in one place might be a problem. He added to the message the need for a remote and isolated world, somewhere either inhabited by a species not affected by the aliens' telepathy or uninhabited. Being too caught up in the pacifistic atmosphere around them was an issue all its own.


	5. Chapter 5

The world they selected was near Betazed, in the end. One of the Betazoid colonies, chosen partially due to its proximity to the heart of the Federation and therefore more easily defended, and partially because the colony of aliens could be isolated from the colony's population as well. Betazoids set aside large wilderness preserves and Fontillin had six large continents, two of which were untouched and inhabited by nothing larger than a mouse.

"They don't look like they could be anything," Nechayev said, surveying the clearing. The aliens, hundreds of them, were gathered together in the space surrounded by the tall trees. "You're certain they can't hear us?"

"Quite. Or see us, but they know we are here. After a detailed analysis and thorough discussions with Deanna, we've found that they have great sensitivity to temperatures and bands of light that we do not ourselves see." Jean-Luc could tell the aliens didn't like Nechayev. She seemed to be uncomfortable, actually rubbing at her arms and shrugging a little as if trying to ease tension. 

"Commander Troi seems to have an excellent rapport with them," Nechayev commented. "I have told very few people about them. I considered a general order seven, but the Betazoid colony suddenly being cut off would be unacceptable."

"I think we can trust the colony not to enlighten people. Betazoids seem to be respectful of the secrets of others. We will be leaving devices to mask the presence of the Cenophytes."

"Not their name for themselves, I take it?" Nechayev actually smiled at him.

"They have no spoken language, so no name. We came up with one, so it would be easier to communicate with Command about them."

Another six Cenophytes materialized as he spoke, and the short humanoids wobbled the short distance to stand with their family. All of them began to sway and raise their hands.

"That means they are happy," he said. "We still have more to beam down."

"It's a feather in your cap, that this was so successful," Nechayev said. "Congratulations."

"We owe it all to the counselor. She risked brain damage to keep trying. Fortunately they adapted as well, and it became easier."

"Have they given her any further information about the Randra Alliance?"

He crossed his arms, watched six more Cenophytes appear and join their friends. "I have the feeling that the Cenophytes are but the first of many refugees from the Beta Quadrant, if what they have given us is any indication."

Nechayev said nothing, her lips pressed together in dismay as she stared down the hill at the crowd of hand-waving aliens.

"I would hazard a guess that the Randra Alliance makes the Dominion appear sane and peaceful," Jean-Luc said quietly.

"I understand you are taking two weeks of leave along with the entirety of your crew," Nechayev said.

"You're welcome to join us for the wedding."

That led to a smile -- one of the few he'd ever seen her have. "Thank you. I believe that I will attend. I'm ready to return to the  _Enterprise_ now, thank you."

"Picard to  _Enterprise_ \- two to beam up."

The admiral went here way at once, to the suite he'd given her. She had been at a starbase and they'd picked her up, and there would be another vessel arriving shortly to take her back to Earth. Jean-Luc went to check on the process -- they had only a dozen Cenophytes left to beam down -- and then went to his quarters.

Deanna was in the shower, as she'd been in the gym teaching her mok'bara class. When she emerged she beamed at him, as she took out a uniform. "You're home. I'm getting ready to go down and make sure they are comfortable."

"The admiral is pleased with the outcome. Geordi is installing the equipment to mislead and confuse sensors, just in case anyone gets curious and tries to scan wilderness preserves. They should be safe here."

"They will contact me if they feel threatened. They've already informed me of that."

"No matter where you are?"

Deanna smiled at that. "You think they couldn't? They can."

"We'll be on Casperia within a week. So hurry up and finish, so you can make the final decisions about the wedding."

"Yes, sir." She fastened her jacket and turned to get her hair brush and some combs. 

"Cygne."

"Yes, my fish," she corrected with a wily smile. 

He watched her work on her hair. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"You don't believe Dr. Mengis?"

"He says that there are some subtle changes in brain activity, but that it's neither here nor there. He thinks that while they may have subtly altered your mind, you are showing no symptoms of physical or mental distress."

Deanna turned from the mirror and crossed her arms, as he had. "Do you see something that I don't? The bond is fine. My empathy is back. I'm tired, mentally, but that happens when I've been trying to be telepathic for a protracted period."

"I want you to enjoy the wedding."

"I fully intend to -- since it's the only one I'll have," she said. 

"The one I never thought I would have," he said, leaning in to kiss her. When they parted, they were both smiling.

Deanna chuckled and patted his chest. "The fun one. The other one, if we ever have one on Betazed, will be less amusing."

"One challenge at a time. That's all I ask."


End file.
